


Seven Bashirs (and one Orb)

by agatharights



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universes, Careerswap, Deep Dish Nine, Dumb Adventures, Genderswap, Hijinks, Interdimensional Incidents, Multiple versions of the same person running around, The Orb of Possibility, The whole cast pretty much, ageswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agatharights/pseuds/agatharights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Orb of Possibility, a lost Bajoran tear of the prophets, allows for glimpses into alternate realities. That, and then some, as it turns out when a freak accident results in multiple realities coming together, and a surplus of Julian Bashirs must be handled until they can return them to their own realities.<br/>In essence, due to an accident there's seven different versions of Julian Bashir around all at once. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Orb of Possibility is basically my plot device for all my dumb AUs, and it makes for a good way to explore different versions of a character, especially through one another's eyes. It’s basically an excuse to write a bunch of AU Bashirs interacting with each other and those around them. Except goofiness and the occasional odd dash of poignancy. Enjoy!

Miles looked like he was either about to burst into laughter, or tears. His stunned expression was the first one Julian registered as his vision game back from darkness, although he couldn’t hear what the ginger man was saying for the overwhelming headache and the sensation of blood rushing in his ears. He was dizzy, sitting on the floor of the lab, and his vision still blurred as he looked from Miles’ confused stare, to Kira’s open-mouthed shock.

Julian’s brain struggled, for a moment, to remember what was happening. The orb. They’d been studying the orb, and the last thing he remembered, standing near the strange box, none of them wanting to open it lest they face Kira’s wrath…and something had happened. He could only vaguely recall Jadzia scrambling to the comm-screen to try and get a visual.  
  
Something about the wormhole. His head was still throbbing, he couldn’t remember…but at least his hearing was coming back.  
  
"Oh no." Miles was saying. "Oh, oh no. I don’t want to be the one to tell Sisko."  
  
Kira just kept gaping. He could hear Jadzia making a funny sound somewhere behind him, like she was trying not to laugh.  
  
"What?" Julian finally found the strength to work his tongue. "What happened?"  
  
"Nothing good, that’s what." Said a voice from behind him, familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Unsettlingly familiar, to tell the truth. Turning to look behind him took some effort, his muscles protesting every move, but the result of the face looking back at him was entirely worth it.  
  
"…what?" Julian croaked out, confused. The man behind him sighed, softly, looking similarly confused but much more…resigned. Which was strange, seeing as the man was him.  
  
Well, maybe not exactly him, but…perhaps him in what, twenty years? A little more? The same features, but the nose seemed more pronounced, the jaw still strong but not as slender, and emphasized by a grey-and-white speckled beard, his hair similarly peppered. He had lines around his eyes and mouth, but had aged gracefully.  
  
There was a groan, and they both looked at where Jadzia was crouched near two other figures, just coming to. Now that his head was clearing, he did a quick scan of the room, and swallowed, hard.  
  
One of the figures waking up was being helped to sit by Jadzia. A woman. Whose features eerily echoed his own, and that was when the pattern fell into place. His elder self got to his feet before he could find his, and as he was helped by himself he braced himself to study the others.  
  
There was him, of course. He knew, somehow, that he was the fitting one. Then there was this older man. And the woman, who was now looking around with wide-eyed astonishment, and barely restrained curiosity. The other one, sitting on the floor with his head cradled in his hands he knew by word of mouth and record from Captain Sisko. A version of him from the other universe, the Terran freedom fighter.  
  
That made four. He followed Miles’ eyes to the other side of the table, where the box still sat…and counted another three.  
  
One was already getting to his feet, and Bashir felt oddly comforted by the perfect mirroring of himself, even if he found himself curious about his uniform. It was the simple white-and-blue uniform of a terran hospital, complete with the long white coat and a simple rectangular badge.  
  
Then one curled up, still and eyes closed yet. He was…young. Bashir didn’t recognize his clothes, but he’d place him nearly a decade younger, in his early twenties, all slender youth curled on his side, whimpering softly as he came back to consciousness.  
  
And the last one…Bashir heard the older self inhale sharply, and knew they both studied him at the same time as he groaned and staggered, hastily, to his feet.  
  
Miles O’Brian let out a brief stream of creative curses.  
  
The face was his. The chalk-white skin of it wasn’t, not were the scales arcing around his eye sockets that only seemed to emphasize his cheekbones, and the soft grey-blue of his eyes was certainly a change…the Cardassian glanced around, absently smoothing the front of his tunic- violet with orange. The Bajoran medical uniform.  
  
There was a long breath’s worth of silence, then, as they all studied one another, as if afraid that as soon as one spoke they would interrupt the others…  
  
…and then the youngest one was awake, and let out a panicked holler while scrabbling away from the others until his back hit the wall.  
  
All hell broke loose in an array of shouts, as what could only be described as a room full of Bashir’s suddenly began talking and questioning at once.  
  
Miles stared in abject horror, and it was Kira who finally found the strength to tap her comm badge.  
  
"Kira to Ops. We have a small situation in science lab one."

* * *

"You really think this is a dream?" Julian asked the young man as he did his checkup, inwardly cringing at the test results. "Seems awfully complex and in-depth for the delusional ravings of your subconscious mind."  
  
The young man, who was a Julian Bashir himself, looked quite shaken up as he nodded, on the verge of fainting again. “I wouldn’t know. If this were dream-logic, I wouldn’t notice any inconsistencies.”  
  
"Mmhm." Bashir sighed, looking at the readings on his PADD as he lowered his sensor. At least the young man was healthy, even if…well…lets just say it had been a complicated few hours. At least, for once, the clinic seemed to have plenty of doctors.  
  
This particular Bashir was a young man, and purportedly a medical student. From the early 21st Century. He tried not to think about how a version of himself could exist as such, but at least he seemed to be the only one of them who was time-displaced on top of everything else. Still…  
  
"Alright, I’m going to need you to hold still for a moment." He retrieved the hypospray, and the younger Bashir eyed it warily. "This will boost your immune system, in case you encounter any pathogens foreign to your time, and it’ll help prevent us from catching anything you might have."  
  
"Oh." The younger man immediately started to roll up his sleeve, and despite Bashir’s momentary confusion he remembered that it was typical for primitive injections to be delivered from the upper arm.  
  
"No, no, here-" He pressed the hypospray to his neck, and the young man jumped, before grabbing the emptied device impulsively and studying it, rubbing his neck.  
  
"Wha…"  
  
"It’s a hypospray. Delivers medication directly through the skin- they don’t have them in your time…" As he explained, Jadzia and Miles stood at the entrance to the medical clinic, watching. Seven Bashirs. Well, six Bashirs, and one Bassir, as they’d learned.  
  
While Julian… _their_ Julian spoke with the young, time-displaced version of himself (Baby Julian, Jadzia and Miles had agreed upon, to keep the names straight) they looked at the others.  
  
Juliana, who was every bit as tall, slender, and beautiful as one would’ve expected the female variant of Julian to be, was pouring over records with ‘Old Julian’, making notes of where things were different in their respective universes. Chief of Surgery Bashir- ‘Paris Julian’ paced to and from them, fretting.  
  
Among the odd ones out was the ‘Mirror Julian’. Who was curled up on a cot in the far back, facing the wall, either asleep or brooding from the threat that if he caused any trouble he’d be placed in a holding cell.  
  
And then there was the Cardassian. Who was pouring over a PADD and kept looking up at Miles, uncertainly. Jadzia noticed that he kept smiling, and then looked disappointed whenever Miles caught the look and flinched, slightly.  
  
"I’m just saying, I had a hell of a day, and the last thing _I_ remember is stumbling into my apartment and hitting my couch. This is clearly the result of me forgetting to throw my lunch in the fridge before my shift.”  
  
"Speaking of your diet, what possible reason could you have to explain the contents of your stomach?"  
  
"I don’t exactly have a lot of time to get food ready-"  
  
"That’s hardly an excuse! I’m surprised you’re even functioning."  
  
Jadzia looked at Miles, who sighed…and then peered down the hall. “He’s coming.” He mumbled, and Jadzia followed his gaze to the form of Commander Sisko, striding down the hall flanked by Worf and Odo.  
  
"…This should be interesting." Jadzia breathed, as Sisko slowed to a stop, lingering as he looked in. "Well, Benjamin…we have six Julians. What do you suggest we do?"  
  
He sighed. “…I suppose we’ll just have to find a way to get them back down to one, won’t we?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which interviews happen, and not much else. Largely setup at this point.

Divide and conquer, Jadzia had suggested. The ragged Terran rebel they at least knew, and nobody doubted the trustworthiness of their Bashir, but that still left five dopplegangers of varying degrees to sort out.  
  
Even if, as three of them had insisted in perfect, eerie unison-  
  
"We'd really rather stay in the infirmary."  
  
Juliana, the older Julian, and the Cardassian all looked at one another incredulously, momentarily offended by someone else taking the words from their mouth before Sisko cleared his throat, looking over the room. It was a sight.  
  
The mirrored Julian remained where he was, fastidiously ignoring everyone and growling at anybody who came near. The young man was attempting to use a primitive PADD-like device and making small noises of panic. The Terran doctor was pacing, increasingly unsettled. Those three would be the problem, Benjamin could feel it.  
  
The other three, well...they stood there, looking at the senior staff expectantly, waiting, flanking the native Bashir.  
  
"...I can understand that, with everything being altered, you might wish to remain in a familiar setting." Sisko started after a careful moment, thinking about his own experiences in alternate universes. "But we must, at least, ensure that none of you pose a threat."  
  
They wilted a bit, a chorus of slender shoulders slumping.  
  
"Don't worry. We'll try to get this done as fast as possible, so we can all get back to figuring out how to fix this."  
  
"The sooner, the better." The earthbound Julian muttered, buttoning and unbuttoning his long coat for what Sisko estimated to have been the eighth time in as many minutes.  
  
"Old man?" Sisko glanced at Jadzia, who held up her PADD, at the ready. "Let me know when you're done interviewing them."  
  
"Will do, Benjamin." She turned on the Bashirs with a careful eye, clearly amused with every last bit of this situation...and raised an eyebrow. "Who's first?"  
  


* * *

  
  
As it turned out, "ladies first" had been accepted as a valid point and Jadzia found herself in a private exam room with Juliana Bashir, who could not seem to stop giggling every time she looked at Jadzia for more than a few moments.  
  
"I'm sorry! I really don't mean to laugh, just...it's very strange. To see you like this."  
  
"As compared to..."  
  
"Well, lets just say I'm used to a more...masculine Dax." She smirked, pacing a bit. She looked like Julian, yes, but the jaw was finer, the features slightly softer. The build was similar, though, and reminded Jadzia of her own figure, but the movement- well, that was entirely Julian's body language. Down to the little gestures of her hand.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"What I've seen seems to imply that the biological sex of most people I've encountered is different." Jadzia had to take a moment to imagine that. "Down to Jadz Dax."  
  
"Jadz Dax?"  
  
"Yes." Juliana smiled, wide and honest and nervously. "You look a lot like him! I mean, not that you're masculine or anything, just...if he were a woman, I mean, obviously if he were a woman he would be _you_."  
  
"I can understand that." Jadzia found herself laughing slightly at the thought. "Almost everybody, then?"  
  
"As far as I can tell." Juliana nodded. "I hoped nobody noticed out there, but I was having to chew the inside of my cheek not to laugh at Sisko!"  
  
There was a moment of silence as Dax attempted to envision Sisko as a woman.  
  
"...What's her name-"  
  
"Bella Sisko."  
  
They both quieted for a moment to giggle between themselves, before continuing. It only took a few minutes before Jadzia had decided that, at least, this version would be easy to handle. It was almost a little eerie, how few things changed despite some differences in gender, and how what was different seemed to work only to keep the two universes more similar.  
  


* * *

  
  
"I just can't imagine myself actually leaving Earth!" The Terran doctor paced. Jadzia had absently labeled him 'Paris Julian' in her PADD notes, and it took some reminding herself not to refer to him as such. "I mean, it wasn't an easy decision to stay, but..." He sighed.  
  
"Don't worry, we'll try to figure this out as soon as we can."  
  
"Well, it had better be soon." He continued his repetition of movements, walking in a tight oval through the exam room, from one side to another with neat precision. "...I should really relax, I know, you're doing everything you can." He sighed, apologetically, and Jadzia smiled warmly.  
  
"This is stressful, I can understand that. Maybe more for you than the others, since you've never met any of us before." She felt...sympathetic to him.  
  
"Well...that, and the fact that when this happened, I was in the middle of a shift." He rubbed his face, aware that he had some slight stubble to take care of. "And I was already a little...tense. The baby's due any day now-"  
  
"The baby?!" Jadzia gasped, eyebrows going up in clear, unabashed surprise.  
  
"Palis and I are expecting- she's my wife-" He started to explain, before she grinned wide. "...what?"  
  
"Nothing! Just...I was wondering if I'd ever get to tell a Julian congratulations on fatherhood!" She laughed, softly, and he relaxed, slowly, before chuckling himself. "Boy or girl?"  
  
"A girl."  
  
Jadzia sighed with a soft "aww" and marked him down before long as well, musing over how a single decision, made in a split second, had resulted in such a different life for Julian. She only wondered how Deep Space Nine was faring without him in the infirmary, and what they may have had in his stead. Still, though...he was a lucky man. Starting a family with his wife, chief of Surgical Staff at a prestigious hospital...she could almost envy his stability. Almost.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Congratulations." Jadzia had said, first thing, as the older man met her in the private room.  
  
"...on what?"  
  
"Your fantastic genetics." She smirked, eying him up. At least Julian could look forwards to aging well, his older self possessing a confidence that the younger Julian seemed to still be developing from sheer energy. He looked...intense. His smile friendly, but his eyes darker, his movements subdued.  
  
He laughed, though, rubbing his salt-and-pepper goatee. It looked good on his jaw. "Thanks. I did what I could...still not sure how I feel about seeing all these young faces around, but at least I can confidently say I have some experience on them."  
  
"A good twenty years, if I'm guessing right." Jadzia smirked. "I don't suppose we all have that added experience, where you're from?"  
  
He shook his head, frowning. "No. There's a few discrepancies, but it's not consistent. Took me a bit to recognize Miles and Kira, but you're no different." Said with a slight sigh. "Though, I do wonder...how old is the Dax symbiont?"  
  
"Nine hosts in, well over three-hundred, why?"  
  
He grinned, a fatherly gesture of sorts. "There it is. My Dax has only known two hosts. Much younger, by that reckoning."  
  
Jadzia smirked. "I can't imagine."  
  
Friendly, but...Jadzia noted that something was off about him. Maybe it was the age, or maybe something else, but he seemed avoidant to discuss his personal history. At least he was polite, it was good to know that Bashir calmed some with age.  
  


* * *

  
  
The insincerity of the Cardassian smiles was clearly a species-wide trait, even on Bashir's face. "Actually, it's Bassir. Julan Bassir. At least the name's not terribly different."  
  
"I see." That didn't make it any less strange to her, as she studied him. All chalky skin and scaled ridges, his pale blue-grey eyes speaking of endless excitement and amusement. "Well, what's one small change as compared to..." She gestured, and he laughed.  
  
"The species thing? Well, let me tell you, I'm clearly the more startled one- I can't believe all these... _me_ s are human!" He laughed, though, rubbing the scales along his jaw. Julian's broad shoulders and slender neck became an impressive thing, when accompanied by Cardassian flair, and the open collar of his medical tunic gave it plenty of emphasis. "...not that there's anything wrong with humans."  
  
"Good of you to add that on there." She chuckled. "I'm just having trouble imagining the Julian I know growing up somewhere like Cardassia. Seems like a harsh place-"  
  
"It is." He frowned. "Hence why I'm not there anymore."  
  
"Ah."  
  
He cautiously smiled again. "...If it makes you feel any better, Cardassians still aren't particularly well-liked where I'm from."  
  
"Only marginally."  
  
At the very least, she found he was open and honest about most things even the human Julians had avoided. It must've taken quite a bold Cardassian to say, without pause, that he'd initially been trained to be a government worker- to go into the military, only to turn around and delve into such a female-heavy profession for Cardassians.  
  
He was different, but comfortably familiar at the same time, despite his strangeness. He was frankly discomforted, and at the same time curious. She had a suspicion him and her own Bashir would get along well.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Before Jadzia could lead the youngest man back, the commotion started. It was unclear who, exactly, had started what, but the Cardassian was on the floor, the rebel fighter was on the Cardassian with his thumbs pressing into that thick throat, ever intent to strangle.  
  
It only lasted a moment of harsh shouting, Jadzia moving to intervene, but the eldest Bashir was there first, and there was a moment of outright startling speed and force from him, as he hauled the young rebel fighter off his alien doppelganger.  
  
He spent a moment on his feet, confused and angry, before the elder laid him out on the floor with one fast, well-placed swing. The other Bashir's stared, uncertainly, and Jadzia lingered, nervous.  
  
"...I would suggest calling security." He finally said, voice so uncharacteristically gruff for any Julian.  
  
"Right." Dax tapped her combadge as the unconscious man was swarmed by too many doctors. "Dax to Security, we're going to need someone."  
  
In the security office, Odo felt almost relieved that something had gone wrong. Better to know you couldn't trust a handful of copycats, then worry about what might go unnoticed.


End file.
